Harry, Harry, Harry
by Ariana Hufflepuff
Summary: The war is over. Voldemort is dead. Or so they thought. Harry's mind is being invaded by the Dark Lord once more, but few believe him. They're suffering from "The Fudge", unwilling to believe their world is facing darkness once more.


Some suffering never ends. Some people never have a happy ending. Some people are born to suffer.

The Ministry was empty when the Aurors returned from their mission. Harry and Ron stepped out of the Floo and paused for a moment as Terry Boot and Ernie MacMillian stepped through. They grinned at each other, in a sort of tired way and made their way to the lifts. They still had to make their reports before going home for the night. Harry was seriously considering not going into work tomorrow, it had been an exhausting evening.

Harry opened the door to their office, letting Ron in behind him and they went to their desks. He knocked some empty cups and wrappers into the trash can and scowled at Ron. For some reason, Ron was able to keep his desk orderly and clean. He suspected Hermione had something to do with it but Ron wouldn't tell him his secret. He picked up a pile of papers and tossed them onto the ground next to his desk. He wasn't even sure what was in the pile but it wasn't anything he needed now.

He sat down and pulled out the forms he need to do and kicked his feet up on his desk. A notebook was pushed off and he sighed loudly. He could hear Ron's quil scratching on the parchment so he hurried to get started. He did not want to be stuck here longer than he had to be!

He was on the last two pages when Ron stood up and stretched. He looked up at him and Ron smirked.

"Done!" He said cheerfully. Harry balled up some parchment and threw it at him.

"Then get out of here, you're distracting me," he all but growled. Ron winked and slammed the door behind him.

Git.

Harry rubbed at his eyes and checked the pocket watch the Weasley's gave him on his 17th birthday. It was nearing 1am. He sighed and picked up his quill. He was going to finish this soon! It was 15 after one when he finished the last form and tossed it on his desk. He grinned. Finally! He stood up and picked up the pile of parchment he had set down earlier and that's when he heard it.

"He's picking up the parchment."

He jumped and whipped around. The room appeared empty. He stomped to the door and threw it open and looked around. The hallway was empty. His heart was pounding now and he shut the door. He ran a hand through his hair. He knew he heard it. It was so loud and clear, he's picking up the parchment.

"Homenum Revelio!"

Nothing happened. He frowned. He was going home. Maybe he was just really, really tired. He glanced around the room once more before leaving.

It happened again when he got home. He was in his bathroom, looking into the mirror, at his scar in particular when he heard, quite loudly and clearly, "He's back."

Harry jumped again and spun in a circle. The room was empty! He's back, who? What could- he felt a cold dread fill him. Voldemort. He was hearing the voice inside his head, from his scar. Voldemort. He was sweating now. He needed to tell Ron and Hermione, then they could figure out what to do from there. He was gripping the counter as he tried to calm down. Someone knocked on the door.

"Harry?"

It was Ginny. He breathed and opened it. She looked him up and down, frowning.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not," He said and walked to their bedroom. He sat down on their bed.

"Ginny," he pulled her down so she was on his lap and buried his face in her hair. The scent of her shampoo washed over him and he felt calmer. He felt her wrap her arms around him.

"What's wrong?" She sounded scared. He didn't want to tell her, they had gone through so much and they should be safe...How could he shatter that? He took a deep breath and pulled away to look into her eyes. He cupped her face and she leaned into the touch.

"The connection between Voldemort and me… It's opened again," he said slowly. She froze and moved so she was sitting quite rigidly in his lap.

"What?"

"It's opened again, I-I don't know how else to explain it," he was trying not to tremble, but she must have noticed. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly.

"What do we do?" she whispered.

"I'm going to let Ron and Hermione know and contact the rest of the Order, what else can we do?"

She stood up and turned away, with a wave of her wand she sent off her patronus, the horse pranced around the room and paused, pawing at the ground. Ginny approached it, cupping a hand to the horse's ear and whispered into it. He loved it when she did that, it was such a beautiful scene and never failed to bring a smile to his face. It split into many, the bright blue light making it impossible to count, and then it drifted through the wall.

She turned to him and said, "We're meeting in an hour, I don't think this should wait."

The meeting didn't go well. Most of the Weasley's had arrived, some, like George, hadn't bothered changing out of their people seemed to be pulling, what Harry called, "The Fudge", and refusing to acknowledge that Voldemort was back. He knew if Dumbledore was still around, the Order members wouldn't be questioning if he was right. They blindly followed Dumbledore, they were all guilty of it.

Apparently, that just wasn't carrying over to him. The Weasley's believed him, without a doubt, but they had always came out better when Harry's scar was bringing him visions. Fleur seemed to be the most adamant about it and she was clearly dancing around a subject, not quite brave enough to say it. Harry knew though and his anger flared.

"Just say it! You're thinking about how I got Sirius killed, is that it?" he yelled. Her eyes had widened and she glanced at her husband, who took a step forward. Harry took one back and reached for his wand. Bill wasn't as friendly to him as the other Weasleys.

"Don't you ye-" He snarled, only to have Fleur cut him off.

"Yes!" She answered loudly but she finished in a softer voice, "But It wasn't your fault, 'Arry."

He went to reply when Ginny grabbed him and shot him her 'shut up' look.

"It's worth exploring. We need to know if the connection is open," she said. There was a general agreement. Fleur huffed and crossed her arms. Bill attempted a weak smile. Mr. Weasley spoke first.

"We need to hear what the chatter is on the Dark Markets."

Harry nodded.

"I've got a favor to call in, I know who I can talk to."

"Shouldn't we use Mundungus?" Hagrid asked. Mundungus looked up suddenly from the corner he was sitting in.

"That is m'job," he mumbled. "Why else would you need me?"

"We ask ourselves that often," McGonagall said.

Harry smirked, he still hadn't forgiven him for stealing Black property. Another ear was always good though and in the end he agreed. He would have prefered to keep his contact secret but no one was willing to let him go without them knowing where.

"What if something happened, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley had asked. He remembered her boggarts and sighed. He'd have to prepare for the yelling then.

"Draco Malfoy."

It was only with a compromise that Harry could go, as long as Ron was allowed to be nearby. Harry had refused to let him go with, Ron's hot temper would only be fueled by Malfoy. They decided Harry would simply show up, if he asked if it was okay, Malfoy would surely decline and it wasn't an option.

He hurried outside and Apparated to Malfoy manor. The black iron gates met him first and he approached them hesitantly. The Death Eaters had grabbed them and they came to life so he cautiously reached out and grabbed a hold. They melted at his touch, turning to a dark smoke and rising to the sky. He walked forward and then turned to look behind him. The gates had reformed. It took him a while to walk the path to the manor but when he arrived, it wasn't a house elf that had greeted him at the door.

Malfoy had been furious to see him in his home. Harry wasn't a bit surprised to see him ball up his fists.

"What do you want, Potter?" He had snapped. His lip was curled up in dislike. Harry rose to the challenge, grinning at him.

"I'm calling in the life debt."

All the fight seemed to fade out of Malfoy. His hands went limp, the sneer on his face dropped, he even paled a bit. He eyed Harry up and down for a moment and then jerked his head towards the hallway, leading the way to a sitting room. An elf was already bringing biscuits and tea. Draco settled into a chair. Harry hovered. He really didn't want to sit.

"Manners would dictate that you would sit the fuck down, Potter."

He was right, of course. He rolled his eyes though and sat across from Draco.

"Explain it then, what is it you want?"

"It's hard to expla-"

Draco snorted and then looked surprised that Harry had stopped talking, raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He sighed. This was going to be unbearable. So he explained his scar, the connection with Voldemort, and hesitated at the end. He decided to shove a biscuit in his mouth to buy some time. He wasn't sure how Draco was going to react to the next bit.

But Draco seemed to already know. His eyes were impossibly wide and he leaned closer, glancing around the room, and whispering, "Are you saying...He is back, Potter?"

He nodded and swallowed too much tea. His hand had shook. Draco pursed his lips together and leaned back in his chair. He was so white the light next to him seemed to be reflecting off his skin.

"Are you wanting me to spy for you?" he hissed. "Are you insane?"

"Malfoy, how else are we supposed to know what he's planning?"

Draco stood up and wrapped his arms around himself.

"My Mark hasn't been burning."

"It didn't burn for the Death Eaters last time until he got his body back," Harry pointed out. "We need you to do this."

"What if I refuse?"

Malfoy's lip trembled before he got control of his emotions and sneered to cover it. Harry's heart seemed to jump into his throat.

"I won't make you," he said.

"I hate you," Malfoy snarled.

Harry sighed and set his tea down. He stood up. Draco flinched and took a step back. Perhaps he had expect Harry to strike him, to force him to help. Well, Harry wasn't a monster. He wasn't going to put anyone in danger who wasn't willing.

"I'll be going."

He had hoped, Draco would follow him, stop him, tell him he'd help but Draco said nothing. He wondered briefly if Draco was wanting him to force him to but pushed the thought aside. If that was what it took...Well, Harry wasn't a monster. He asked, he was turned down, and he wasn't going to force or beg for help. He had Mundungus.


End file.
